


Definitely not human.

by mistressterably



Series: One offs - Doctor Who related [11]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 08:00:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4617636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistressterably/pseuds/mistressterably
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Anon tumblr prompt fill: Clara realises how alien the Doctor really is when observing him on a daily basis. Can be adult fic.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Definitely not human.

**Author's Note:**

> Anon tumblr prompt fill: Clara realises how alien the Doctor really is when observing him on a daily basis. Can be adult fic.

Clara had taken the Doctor’s invitation to move into rooms on the TARDIS and had been delighted to be given the chance to design her own place. It was like being a kid in a candy store without a budget. He had sat in his arm chair, reading some dry book on mathematical theory of something or other, while she had planned her room out. ‘What do you think? Silk or satin?’

‘What?’ He barely looked up at her question.

‘For the sheets on my bed.’ Clara asked. ‘What do you use? I’ve never slept on the TARDIS before, does it get warm or cold?’

‘Pick whatever you like. The room temperature can be adjusted to whatever you want.’

‘What do you use then?’ Clara asked again, curious. 

‘Hm?’

‘For bed sheets.’

‘I just sleep wherever.’ He shrugged and just went back to his book, leaving her to carry on with her room design.

That had been the first time that Clara had started to think of him as an alien. Days later, they had arrived at a large market strolling about. He’d gotten used to her holding his hand as they explored new places but she had noted how cold his hands almost always were. She had asked about that and he’d just mentioned that he had a lower core temperature. He’d not elaborated any further. And now, strolling about, he stopped suddenly his nose wrinkling and sniffing about him.

‘Something wrong,’ Clara asked, wondering if this was to be the start of a ‘thing’, an adventure.

‘No, nothing wrong. Just someone is cooking up something I’ve smelled before. Trying to think what it is.’ He sniffed loudly. ‘Weltran waffles. That’s what it is. Vile things. Never touch them Clara. Vile.’ Clara had sniffed about herself but could not for the life of her smell anything out of the ordinary. He had kept walking and was well ahead of her before she had to run to catch up to him.

‘Have you not had a wash lately, Clara?’ The Doctor asked at random a week later. He looked up from his work table as she had arrived in the console room. 

‘Pardon?’ Clara asked. ‘I just had a shower this morning.’ 

‘Oh.’ He bent back to the mechanical gadget he’d been cleaning. 

‘Why do you ask?’

‘Hm?’ He glanced up again. ‘Smells like you’re in heat that’s all.’

Clara blushed fiercely, glad that he had already gone back to his tinkering. Blasted sense of smell, she thought. Her period had just started! What was she going to do for the next few days now! ‘Doctor?’

‘I’m trying to get this energy converter working again, Clara. Is this important?’

‘I, ah, yes. It is.’ Clara said, getting his attention finally. ‘Do you honestly smell something odd?’

‘Yes.’ He said, blunt. ‘Then you are in heat?’

‘Doctor!’ Clara blushed even more redly. ‘If you really must know, it’s the start of my period. Is this going to bother you too much?’

‘No. Should it?’ 

‘Well, you made a point of mentioning it.’ 

‘It is natural, Clara. It doesn’t bother me. If you need some time alone, just let me know.’

‘Why would I need time alone?’

‘Well, it’s not like I’m going to be able to service you in that condition.’ The Doctor said, his tone conversational.

‘I wouldn’t be asking you to do that! Not at all!’ Clara said emphatically.

‘No problem then. Can I get back to my cleaning now?’ 

Frustrated, Clara turned and went back down the corridor to her room.

Even a simple thing such as eating became something of a nightmare for Clara. She had taken to making them dinners most evenings and Clara enjoyed using the TARDIS kitchen to create fabulous meals. At first, she had thought that his quick manner of eating was due to him being distracted by some work he’d been doing on the console. But the third dinner she had tried to make a souffle and had actually succeeded! She had presented it to him with a flourish. And he had the same ho-hum look on his face and just ate it quickly. He shovelled it in, chewed quickly and then was back up on his feet and off to do whatever it was he was doing to the console this time. 

Clara, still holding out an idea that he would be ‘normal’ to her, had asked him to take her somewhere peaceful and quiet with a beautiful sky. He had obliged and taken her to a planet with rolling hills, soft long grass and a sky tinted purple with soft blue clouds. He had rambled on about how the environmental conditions and high something or content caused the colouration of the clouds. Clara just turned to him, laid a finger on his lips. “Shush, Doctor. Can we just maybe lay on the grass and watch the clouds in the sky for a while.’

‘That would be boring. If that’s what you’d like to do, go ahead. I can get some tuning done on the scanners until you’re ready to go.’

Clara had sighed, nodded and, as he returned to the TARDIS, she just sat on the hillside and watched the clouds. Dreaming hopelessly that the Doctor would see the world the way she does. He really was an alien no matter how human he looked.


End file.
